Through Glass
by Ksiezniczka
Summary: Pre-G1. Prequel to "Wonderwall". How did two mechs as close as Soundwave and Jazz end up as enemies? A look back at their times together on Cybertron.
1. Roommates

**I've put off writing this one long enough. It's a prequel to "Wonderwall", though you don't have to have read "Wonderwall" to get it. Y'dig? Anyway, I'm going to tell you right now that this whole story takes place in Jazz's MEMORIES. Which means that two scenes write next to each other may take place years apart. I'll go in chronological order, but after that I make no guarantees. Unlike "Wonderwall", updates on this'll probably be sporadic. Sorry.**

**Baby Bee doesn't make an appearance until later. The first couple of chapters focus on their days at the academy, okay? It's no secret that this is inspired by John Knowles' A Separate Peace. I had to read that my sophomore year and I absolutely loved it.**

**Also, I know it isn't the commonly accepted way, but the way I've always done it is sparklings are like babies and children, and minibots are more like teenagers. So Jazz and the others are minibots in his memories. Confused? You'll live.**

**Also also, since they're much younger, Prowl and Soundwave aren't quite so reserved yet.**

**I don't own "Transformers" or the song from which this fic gets its title.**

--

_How do you feel?  
That is the question  
But I forget you don't expect an easy answer  
When something like a soul becomes initialised  
And folded up like paper dolls and little notes  
You can't expect a bit of hope  
While you're outside looking in  
Describing what you see  
Remember what you're staring at is me._

--

The Porsche sat there, idly tapping his fingers, as his best friend since childhood typed some things into Teletran-1. Jazz's head was spinning. He had been right. He had been right and Prowl had been wrong, and under any other circumstances, he would have been gloating. But he just couldn't right now. Not with such a heavy feeling in his chest cavity. He almost wished Prowl would assign him some job just to get his mind off all he had lost and found. It was selfish of him – all mechs had lost someone in this war. But not all mechs saw what they had lost on the opposite side over something that could have easily been avoided.

"So," he finally uttered something, mildly surprising the police car next to him, "the more things stay the same, the more they change after all."

"Nothing endures," Prowl smiled over at him, a rare occurrence in the Datsun. "Not a skyscraper. Not love. Not even a death by violence."

"How poetic of you," Jazz moped. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It should have turned out differently. How had it turned out like this? He thought back to when he had first met the one mech who had forever changed his life…

--

"This sucks," the young mech kicked a wall, than immediately winced from the impact. "This is the absolute worst! I just can't believe it!"

"You're overreacting, Jazz," Prowl said calmly. He was always calm, a perfect contrast to how energetic Jazz was. The two had been inseparable since they realised this fact.

"I am not overreacting, you're underreacting! I mean, it's bad enough that Ratch' an' Wheeljack are goin' to the Science Academy, but then our little group is broken up even further? I can't believe you aren't upset about this!"

"It isn't the end of the world," Prowl glared. "We'll still see Ratchet and Wheeljack during school breaks, and I'm not going to be that far. My room is just across the hall from yours."

This shut Jazz up as the two continued to look for their dorm rooms, but it was still aggravating for the minibot. He'd wanted to be Prowl's roommate, not some stranger's. What if his roommate hated music? Jazz would absolutely die!

"Here," Prowl motioned for them to stop. "This is my room. That one's yours. Can you handle that, you big sparkling, or should I hold your hand?"

"Shut up," Jazz glared through the visor he always wore, and entered his room. To be honest, he was just a little afraid, but he'd never give Prowl the satisfaction of knowing that. Ever since he was created, he'd never once been on his own. If his family wasn't with him, Prowl was, and oftentimes Wheeljack and Ratchet as well. But now, he felt totally alone!

He noticed there were two recharge berths in the room. And on one sat a tall minibot with a square-ish build, as opposed to a more rounded one like his own. The strange mech didn't have wheels _or_ wings, which was even stranger for Jazz, because he couldn't fathom having to walk everywhere. This mech – his _roommate_ – was a deep, unique indigo colour, and also wore a visor, though his was red. His mouth was drawn tightly into a little line, as if he were biting his lip. Almost as if he were trying to keep from smiling. Or frowning.

"Uh…" Though he was extroverted, without Prowl there for security, Jazz had trouble thinking what to say. Still, he couldn't have the mech he'd be living with for the next four vorns hating him, could he? "Uh, I'm Jazz."

The roommate didn't answer.

"Hello? Did ya hear me?" Jazz demanded, hands on his hips. Still no answer. This was frustrating. Jazz disliked being ignored. "Hey! You!" He ran into the other's line of sight and started waving his hands wildly. The other gasped quietly and quickly brought his indigo hands up to his helmet, flipping a tiny switch by his audio receptors.

Oh. He hadn't been ignoring Jazz. He'd been listening to an internal radio. Which meant his first impression of the black-and-white minibot was Jazz waving his hands back in forth like a crazy mech. How embarrassing.

"Uh… sorry 'bout that… I thought ya were ignorin' me…" Jazz suddenly found the floor very interesting.

The other looked almost sad. "Sorry…" he whispered, almost inaudibly, and Jazz gasped. This minibot's voice was unlike any he'd ever heard. It was so… melodic. And Jazz could really appreciate that.

"Hey, it's fine. I listen to my radio all the time, too. 'Cept I usually dance with it. You were jus' sittin' there. I'm – "

"Jazz," the other stared at him. Jazz shivered, an odd sensation in his head.

"Heh. Telepath, eh? I've heard of mechs like that. Not supposed to exist, or so I thought. Anyway, guess ya know all about me already, but it's pretty unfair if ya won't say anything about yo'self."

"Designation: Soundwave," his roommate answered, then added quickly, "I'm new to this city…"

"Aw, don' worry 'bout that!" Jazz, an Iacon native, grinned broadly at his shy roommate, who shrunk into himself. "What? What'd I say?"

Soundwave smiled and shook his head – unlike Jazz his smile was small, and tentative. This minibot was obviously very introverted. Great. Another Prowl…

--

Between classes, Jazz was never too far from either Prowl or Soundwave. The trio were as inseparable as Jazz and Prowl had been before. And they became fast friends. Soundwave was incredibly smart and surprisingly witty when he wanted to be, which pleased Prowl whenever he got into one of his "logical, debate everything" moods.

Though Jazz had some classes with Soundwave and some with Prowl, there was only one class the trio had all together: battle training with Professor Kup.

In Jazz's opinion it was stupid. Nobody expected the battles that had been taking place in Soundwave's home city of Kaon to turn into a full-scale war. But Prowl had heard stories of an ex-gladiator named Megatron, a sadist with glowing red optics.

"_Red_ optics? Well, that's weird!" had been Jazz's reaction. Everyone he knew had blue optics, except Soundwave, whose optics were yellow underneath the visor.

"Well," Prowl continued, "conversely that could just be propaganda. I've heard from other sources that Megatron could be a saviour of Cybertron. It's common knowledge that the council in Kaon was corrupt, after all."

"Hey, Sounds, that ain't true, is it? This guy can't be as evil as everyone's makin' him out ta be!"

Soundwave looked away, than scribbled something on a datapad. He shoved the datapad towards Jazz, covering his mouth with his other hand.

"Are you alright?" Prowl asked, concerned, but Soundwave nodded, adding:

"I am fully functional."

"Ya know," Jazz smirked, "if ya hate showin' yo' emotions so much, you should start wearing a battle mask." He picked up the datapad and stared at it for a good ten breems. Prowl stared at Jazz and Soundwave at the table they were sitting at. Finally, Jazz opened his mouth, "I can't read it!"

"It's coded," Soundwave answered, causing Jazz to pout, then smile sweetly up at the indigo mech.

"Hey, Souuuunds?" he continued to smile, speaking in a sing-song tone of voice.

"Don't start," Prowl shook his head as Soundwave smirked down at Jazz.

"You're not sweet-talking your way out of this. Decode it yourself," was Soundwave's reply to Jazz's sing-song voice. "You're smart enough."

Jazz pouted and tucked the datapad away for later. He didn't know it now, but through Soundwave he would eventually become an expert at cracking codes.

Sometimes, Kup's class was entirely physical. Prowl's hypothesis was that the old teacher got too lazy to actually teach, and that was the reason he had them run (or roll) laps, or dodge flying projectiles meant to stimulate bullets and pieces of skyscrapers. Jazz didn't mind so much though. Especially when he found out that there were records for fastest or most skilled at this or best at that. Those types of things. And he was even more intrigued to find that almost all the physical records were held by one mech.

"Ironhide," Soundwave read the name on one of the plaques.

"He doesn't live too far from Ratchet, if I'm not mistaken," Prowl elaborated.

"Oh, I've seen 'im!" Jazz's visor twinkled. "Wow, ta think he did all that! He's so cool!"

"Alright, alright, everyone settle down over here!" Professor Kup's voice interrupted the trio before Prowl could groan at Jazz. "It's your team's turn to dodge."

Sighing, the trio walked out with their team to go dodge whatever Kup's droids would launch at them.

For what seemed like orns and orns, they moved about the simulation field in the (much more dangerous) Cybertronian equivalent of dodgeball.

After some time, their turn was blessedly over, and the three walked off the simulation battlefield.

Or rather, Prowl and Soundwave walked off.

"Jazz!" Prowl whisper-shouted so as not to attract Professor Kup's attention. "What the slag are you _doing_!?"

"Beatin' Ironhide's records!" Jazz grinned and began to dance around the simulation field with a stylised flourish, dodging the projectiles like a robotic ballerina.

"Be careful!" Prowl glared. Jazz was so stupid sometimes. Did he have a death wish or something?

It all happened so fast, but the memory would always play in slow motion. In all his effort to show off, Jazz hadn't seen it coming. But the pain… oh, the pain… and Soundwave. Soundwave was suddenly there, gently scooping him and the pieces of his leg up.

"I told you to be careful," Prowl groaned as Kup ran over.

"What happened!?" the professor demanded.

"M-my leg…" Jazz winced. "Sorry, sir, I… I really thought I could do it."

"Soundwave, take him to med bay," Kup instructed. "Jazz, there's a reason first-years are on a time limit…"

Prowl looked on stoically, hiding his feelings of helplessness as the indigo minibot left the classroom.

But as soon as they left, Soundwave began walking towards their room.

"Uh, Sounds? Where are you goin'? Med bay's that way."

Soundwave didn't answer, instead setting Jazz down on the recharge berth and beginning to work on his leg.

"Sounds? But you're too young to be a medic."

"My maker was an engineer," Soundwave explained quietly, before going back to the leg, his face the picture of total concentration.

When he finished, Jazz noted that they'd missed their next class. Also, Soundwave looked exhausted. But not too exhausted to scold, "What were you thinking?!"

Jazz shrunk back a little. Soundwave, never one to show his emotions, was scary when he yelled.

"I'm sorry… I guess I got caught up in showin' off ta you an' Prowl, an' I stopped payin' attention ta my surroundings, an'… I dunno… I really thought I could do it. 'Sides, ya know that in a real battle, there wouldn't be a time limit like that."

"Which is the reason for this training," Soundwave glared through his visor. "You were fortunate that only your leg was hit."

"I said I was sorry," Jazz shrank back even more. "I really do want ta be prepared in case of a war, but not if you're mad at me."

Soundwave sighed – another rare sound out of him – and shook his head. "I wasn't mad, Jazz. I was worried."

"I can take care of myself, in or outta battle."

"You'd be useless in battle," Soundwave smirked slightly, to keep Jazz from being offended at this statement. Nevertheless, a look of shocked amazement passed over the black and white minibot's features. Soundwave continued, "You'd get in the frontlines and the next thing anyone knew you'd be over with the enemy, sharing your music and asking them to dance. You'd be sitting in their command posts, teaching them Cybertronian, and get things so scrambled up, nobody would know who to fight anymore."

Jazz pouted, but the only thing he said back was, "Thanks fo' fixin' me up, then."

Soundwave was silent.

As an afterthought, Jazz added, "What was on that datapad ya gave me?"

"Figure it out."

"But – " Jazz started, but didn't get a chance to finish as the indigo minibot passed out on the other recharge berth. "Primus, I really tired ya out, didn't I , Sounds?"

Not leaving his room for the rest of that day – he knew he'd get scolded by Prowl later, but that didn't matter now – Jazz set to working on decoding Soundwave's datapad. Finally, he figured it out:

"Megatron isn't as evil as the mechs here in Iacon say he is," read the datapad. "He's much worse."

-_To Be Continued-_

**So what'd you think? Is their friendship convincing enough? I sure hope so.**

**What of Soundwave's mysterious past in Kaon? How'd he end up on Megatron's side? How does Prowl feel about all this? How will Wheeljack and Ratchet react? And how do Optimus Prime and baby Bumblebee fit into the picture? All that and more when "Through Glass" continues!**

**Reviews are much appreciated!**


	2. Accidents

**Following what seemed to work last chapter, this starts with the "present" (or the 80's – whichever you perceive as "Wonderwall"'s timeline) and then goes to Jazz's memories. This chapter's present is during chapter 3 of "Wonderwall", so skip the first scene if you haven't read it, I guess. The memory that involves Ironhide takes place shortly after the last chapter, but the one after takes place some time later, when Jazz, Soundwave, and Prowl are the Cybertronian equivalent of, say, 10****th**** or 11****th**** graders.**

**In their first appearance in this chapter, the twins, Skywarp, and Thundercracker are the Cybertronian equivalent of seven-year-olds. (I want a seven-year-old set of Lambo twins. XD Dunno if they'd be better or worse behaved than they are as adult mechs, though. Hehe.) I assume they have park-like structures on Cybertron. They have them on that one planet in the beginning of the 1986 movie (the one that Unicron ate), and that planet wasn't organic, either.**

**Depending on what you reviewers think (and I know a lot of you have this on alert but DIDN'T review. Now it's YOUR LOSS!), I may throw some yummy SW/Jazz romantic tension in next chapter. If I feel like it.**

**I don't own any of the characters. Well, maybe Soundwave's father-thing, but to be honest, I don't care about him. I don't do OCs. Not in this fandom, anyway.**

**--**

"'Just be careful'. That's the best I could come up with? 'Just be _careful'_?!" Jazz berated himself, debating whether or not to start banging his head against the wall.

"You said the right thing. Why are you acting like a newly-made sparkling?" Prowl didn't even look up from his work. The Datsun was sure Bumblebee – who had no idea Prowl knew, of course, but then again, Prowl knew everything – didn't care about Jazz's choice of words.

"Be_cause_!" Jazz looked exasperated, then flopped down onto the floor in a cross-legged sit, shoulders slumping. "I dunno. I wish there was some better way o' warnin' 'im, though."

"Warning him about what? Bumblebee is young, but he's far from stupid – I'm sure he knows the dangers of his involvement with the enemy."

"He knows statistics, Prowl. But he has no way o' knowin' that Screamer's just gonna end up crushin' his spark in the end."

Prowl finally looked up, then walked over and placed a hand on the Porsche's knee. "Hey," he said gently, a tone he rarely used anymore with anyone except Jazz, "You don't know that for sure. Unless… you weren't really talking about Starscream and Bumblebee?"

Jazz didn't reply, but instead retreated into his memories, trying to figure out how it had ended up this way. Soundwave wasn't bad. So why…?

--

"We'll get in trouble."

"Aw, slag that," Jazz skipped ahead a few steps, then turned and grinned broadly at the uneasy mech who he'd dragged out here. "We're only in trouble if we get caught! An' we won't get caught. 'Sides, it's not like we're doin' something bad."

"We aren't supposed to leave campus," Soundwave looked around tentatively. Jazz was risking punishment to the both of them – or worse, expulsion – to show him something as trivial as an Iacon park? "Why are we here?"

"Cos you're too uptight. Loosen up a bit, Sounds! Look around! This is Iacon, best city on th' face of this planet!"

"This is stupid," Soundwave decided before turning to walk back towards the academy. Jazz wouldn't have it, though, and transformed, rolling circles around the bewildered indigo mech to stop him from leaving. Speed was something Jazz excelled at, among other things. With other mechs, for instance, the others in their dorm, the faculty, Jazz could get along with anyone. He attracted everyone he met. Though most would probably be scared off if circled like this. Soundwave was beginning to feel queasy.

Finally, the indigo minibot was forced to say, "Stop that. You're throwing off my equilibrium."

"No way. I ain't stoppin' til you agree to stay with me fo' the rest o' the day."

Soundwave sighed. "If it'll shut you up…"

"Great!" Jazz turned back into his bipedal mode, smirking. "I knew ya couldn't resist my charms!"

"…I hate you…"

The two walked a bit more through the park, Soundwave silently admiring the smooth chrome finish on the walkway and Jazz chatting away about something or other:

"…o'course, then ya hafta – hey, look at that! Sparklings!" Jazz pointed to a quartet of sparklings running around. Well, actually, two were running, laughing as they tried to catch the other two, young fliers. Too young to fly too high or transform, but able to get off the ground. "How cute."

Soundwave didn't say anything, but watched his friend watch the sparklings. Jazz looked so content, but the indigo minibot couldn't perceive why. They were just sparklings.

"They're so innocent at that age," Jazz smiled. "Ya want cute, you should see Prowl's li'l brother, Bluestreak. He's a newly-made; can't even talk yet, though he never stops babblin'. Spittin' image o' Prowler."

"Ow!" One of the sparklings – the little red one – crashed into Soundwave's leg, making a small smack. "Th-that hurt! You pushed me!"

"Did not!" the purple flyer hovered nearby.

"Don't whine about it, Sideswipe, you stupid," the yellow sparkling teased, only to get pounced on by the red one who had bumped into Soundwave.

"Prahmus," a gruff voice behind them surprised the two minibots. They turned to see a tall red mech. "Ah'm sorry 'bout that. Yer okay, right?"

Trying his best to comprehend the unusual speech pattern, Soundwave nodded slowly. Jazz, however, smiled so widely, it was surprising it didn't damage him in some way.

"I know you!" the black-and-white minibot gasped happily. "You're Ironhide, aren't ya? The best fighter and runner and sharp-shooter in the galaxy!"

"Aw, shoot, it ain't no big deal," Ironhide chuckled. "Shouldn't you two be in school? Heh. Dun worry 'bout it. Ah used to sneak out here all the time."

"I didn't know ya had sparklings! Wow, wait'll Prowl hears!"

"What? Naw, these ain't mine! Ah'm watchin' the twins for the mechs who live in th' apartment next ta mahn. An' Thundercracker an' Skywarp belong to them femmes over there," Ironhide pointed to a pair of femmes sitting on a bench-structure, smiling slightly at the blue femme. When he turned back, Jazz had already gone to chasing the delighted sparklings around, tackling the blue flyer, who squealed with laughter.

"Jazz idolises you," Soundwave said quietly, not looking at the red mech. New faces made him uneasy. "He's always trying to break your records. Technically, he already has, but Professor Kup didn't see it, so I haven't bothered telling him."

"Those records ain't really worth squat, between you an' me. His name's Jazz, eh? 'Sgood with sparklings. A real family mech."

A _what_? Soundwave thought about it for a second, but couldn't comprehend what Ironhide meant by that. Family…?

"What's the matter, Sounds?" Jazz walked up to his friend happily, pretending not to notice the four sparklings clinging to his legs as he did so. "Ya only get that look when you're thinkin' too hard, an' I brought ya out here so ya _wouldn't_ think."

"What is…" Soundwave began, not happy to admit there was something he didn't know anything about. "What is the definition of a family?"

Jazz's smile fell from his face. "Wh-what? Ya don' know what a… Primus, Sounds, how d'ya not know?"

"You're upset," Soundwave began probing his friends mind to see what he'd done wrong. Should he not have asked? Was it offensive?

"Hey, none o' that! Get outta my head; I ain't mad at ya! Just a bit thrown off!" The black-and-white minibot shook his head. "It's just… _Primus_, Soundwave, don't you know your makers?"

"Of course I do. But it's maker. In the singular."

"Alright, yo' maker. The one who raised ya, loved ya, sent ya off ta get an education… Y'know, yo' family."

Soundwave looked away, trying to hide the disappointed frown. He didn't understand what his roommate was trying to say, and it was frustrating that Jazz had blocked his mind off. "That does not compute."

"Whaddya _mean_ it doesn't compute!?" Jazz looked to his idol for help, but Ironhide shook his head and stated:

"Hey, leave me outta this one. This is between you an' yer friend."

Still thinking, Soundwave went through Jazz's definition word by word. The one who _raised_ him? Well, his engineer maker had built him, and taught him to be extremely competent. Soundwave _had_ to be competent – his maker was one of the best engineers in Kaon, and _needed_ a worthy assistant. No mechs in Kaon had qualified, so the engineer had made one himself. That had to count as raising. But love? There was none of that. And Soundwave had run away to come to Iacon, not gotten sent off. If his maker found out – assuming he was still alive after Megatron's takeover of the city – then he would be punished…

…it was only after Soundwave looked up and saw Jazz's horrified expression that he realised he'd been thinking out loud. Mumbling, actually, but Jazz had heard it nonetheless.

"S-Sounds…" Jazz shook his head slowly. "That's _horrible_."

Soundwave shrugged, trying to brush off his embarrassment. "It doesn't matter."

"How can ya say that? Primus, how can you think fo' one _second_ that that's okay?"

"Yer overreactin', kid," Ironhide butted in. "Not every sparkling is assembled by a bonded pair. Lots're made ta be assistants, 'specially in Kaon. Soundwave is right, it's no big deal."

"I guess…" Jazz looked a little dejected, and seeing his friend feel so bad for him made Soundwave's spark ache, but he said nothing of it. Jazz thought about it a little more, then asked, "But… where're ya goin' ta go during school breaks?"

"I assumed I'd stay in the dorms."

"What? No, that's borin'! I know; come stay with me an' my makers! Prowl's family lives right nearby, an' you'll get ta meet Wheeljack an' Ratchet, too!"

--

And that's precisely what Soundwave did for every break that followed. He enjoyed the scientific minds of Wheeljack, Ratchet, and their quiet school friend Skyfire, though he didn't get to converse with them much, as the trio were often off with their mentors.

At the Iacon Science Academy, you see, young students were often assigned a mentor who had graduated the school. They learned a lot from their experience as charges, something which Soundwave could almost learn to envy. Especially whatever kind of future student got the humongous Skyfire as a mentor – scientists that were also fliers were incredibly rare.

At any rate, Soundwave respected the science students enough that during one particularly memorable break, it didn't even occur to him to question the contents of the brightly-glowing cube Jazz handed him one night.

"Irresponsible," Prowl glared at the smiling Wheeljack – this was before Wheeljack had aquired his trademark mask and vocal indicators. "And I don't believe you aren't saying anything about it, Ratchet. Wheeljack should be studying, not brewing high-grade. What would your makers say if they knew what you do when they're on vacation?"

"I study plenty. And you already had some and said you liked it," Wheeljack teased.

Soundwave stared at the energon cube. What was high-grade? The glowing liquid looked normal enough, and his olfactory sensors couldn't perceive anything that indicated otherwise. Experimentally, he took a sip…

…and immediately spat it back out, coughing and sputtering as those around him laughed.

"It burns," he noted.

"Well, of _course_ it does," Ratchet smiled. "You didn't expect it to be sweet, did you?"

"Hey, I'll take it if you don't want it," Wheeljack's optics lit up.

"No, I want it," Soundwave clutched the cube harder and defiantly took a large swig, shuddering as he tried to repress the burning sensation. But once the burning passed… the high grade felt pretty nice in his systems actually.

"Y'like it?" Jazz asked, optics already a tad dimmer than they should have been – and he'd barely had a sip! Soundwave thought about it and nodded, and Jazz whooped, "Alright! Let's get completely and totally _slagged_!"

"Cheers to that!" Wheeljack yelped in agreement, and the six minibots slammed their cubes together, high-grade sloshing within as they did so.

Some joors later, Skyfire had retreated to recharge, and the rest of them were wasted. Soundwave was a little better off because of his size, but even he had over-energised more than a minibot ever should. Jazz was leaning on his shoulder, singing a song and making an absolute _mess_ of the lyrics.

"You're hurting my audio receptors," Prowl smirked, and Ratchet added half-jokingly:

"Yeah, shut it Jazz. I hate that song anyway."

"I'll sh-shut you!" Jazz threatened, slurring his words slightly so that the threat made even less sense than it would have written down.

"Rright," Wheeljack slurred. "Izzat… izzat s'posed t'be threat'ning? You can't even ssssstand up straight, Jazzz…"

"I'll shhhut y-you, too," Jazz stood up to carry out his nonsensical threat and immediately fell back down into Soundwave's lap, sending Ratchet and Wheeljack into a fit of hiccupped laughter. Even Prowl was chuckling. "G-guesss'not, eh?" Jazz stared up at his roommate, hoping Soundwave couldn't feel how hard his fuel pump was going.

"Guess not," Soundwave replied coolly. Jazz continued:

"I hope yerr h-havin' a good time. I know I… know I dragged ya, but after all, I couldn'… couldn' go by m'self. I needed my b-best friends, y'know…" here, he hesitated before adding, "which iss what y'are…" He snuggled into Soundwave, optics dimming as he fought off recharge.

"Maybe I should take you to a recharge berth," Soundwave whispered, but the black-and-white minibot protested:

"B-but… yer s-sssoo… warm…"

--

It would seem that eventually, with the exception of Skyfire, the minibots had all succumbed to recharge right there in Wheeljack's makers' warehouse. (Both his makers were engineers, and Wheeljack hoped to become one too.)

However, they were awoken next morning by a loud bang.

"Owww…" Jazz grumbled into his roommate's arm groggily. "Not so early, Wheeljack; my head is killin' me."

"What _was_ that?" Prowl, grumpy from being woken up, but not hung over, questioned. Ratchet looked around, then screamed:

"Wheeljack!"

Jazz, Soundwave, and Prowl followed Ratchet's line of vision and were horrified by what they saw. Ratchet ran over to his best friend, who looked dead under all the soot of the explosion.

"Wheeljack, what were you _thinking_?" Prowl also rushed over, shocked to see the aspiring inventor's face had been almost blown off. Wheeljack struggled valiantly to stay awake.

"I needed to work on my project…" he offered as an excuse, struggling to form the words without lips. "I meant to do it last night, but…"

"Don't talk," Ratchet pleaded, worry making his voice waver. "Wheeljack, you fool…"

"Soundwave, Jazz," Prowl instructed his schoolmates. "C'mon; let's give them some time alone."

Worried sick (and, in Jazz's case, hung over and in _pain_), the three sat outside Wheeljack's warehouse for what seemed like an eternity. Skyfire came by and joined them about halfway through the waiting, accompanied by an adult mech who entered the warehouse.

"What'd I miss?" Skyfire questioned.

"Wheeljack nearly killed himself," Prowl answered quietly, so as not to earn any whining from Jazz. "Who was that?"

"Ratchet's mentor. He called and asked me to bring him over. Is Wheeljack okay?"

"He's fine," a voice interrupted the minibots – Ratchet's mentor. "Ratchet is a good charge, and very bright. He was able to do a lot before I got here. I was impressed. Wheeljack may have trouble enunciating without lips – lip replacement is impossible, you know – but he'll live."

"Where is he?" Skyfire looked to the entrance of the warehouse. Ratchet exited, followed by Wheeljack.

"Hi, Skyfire," Wheeljack said nonchalantly at the extremely tall minibot who was gaping at him in shock. "Oh, Prowl, Soundwave, Jazz, you're all still here? You okay, Jazz? You don't look too good."

Jazz's optics screamed in protest at the bright lights as he forced them online to look at Wheeljack. But Wheeljack didn't look the same. He had a mask. And things on the side of his head. Things that fragging _lit up._

Jazz offlined his optics and buried his face into Soundwave's chest. "I'm never drinking again…"

-_TBC_-

**I guess poor Jazz thinks he's hallucinating or something. But I liked this chapter. It could have been better written (I suck at Ironhide), but it was fun. Starscream is scheduled to appear soon, but we'll see about that. And only a little more time before the appearance of baby Bee!**

**Reviews would be nice. While I'm greatful for all the story alerts, it'd be nice if even a quarter of those who alerted this reviewed it. How can I make sure this is enjoyable without feedback?**


	3. Dances and Deaths

**I… apologise for procrastinating on the update. I needed to work out a few kinks. And I **_**completely **_**forgot Bluestreak's tragic past, which made me feel awful! I tried to remedy it in the opening scene of this chapter, though.**

**Those who also read "Wonderwall", be on the lookout for the companion fic I'm working on for the twins, entitled "You May Be Right". The first chapter should be up in about a month, if I can iron out the wrinkles by then.**

**And OOH, I'm SO MAD that the dashes I use for scene changes don't work anymore! It makes all my work, this included (as well as my other major projects, "Twenty", "Wonderwall", and "Queen of Junk") look like scribbled down garbage! Rrrr... Oh well. Now I use "oOo". Still, I'm rather upset about it. Stupid people who operate the site…**

**I don't own "Transformers", you know.**

oOo

"Primus!" Jazz couldn't stop exclaiming. Normally, it'd be annoying, but Prowl was prepared to ignore it, as the Porsche was smiling hard enough to almost break his face.

"I don't think I've seen you this happy for a long time, Jazz," Prowl commented, silently adding, _'Too long.'_

"When was th'last time?" Jazz asked, a nice departure from exclaiming the same words repeatedly.

"When you two got the apartment together… I believe it was shortly after Bluestreak's last visit before the incident. I still can't believe you thought he was my brother."

"He looks just like ya! How was I t'know his maker was just some femme yo' creator knew from the Academy!?"

"You could have asked."

"Shut up," Jazz smirked, too happy to even bother to feign anger, remembering.

oOo

"Desist," Soundwave commanded, though lightly. The two had graduated with honours about a joor ago, and had recently moved out of Jazz's makers' place into an apartment of their own – and Jazz was currently celebrating by blasting music from his stereos and dancing around the apartment.

"No way, Sounds. Not til I can make ya dance!"

"You couldn't get me overenergised enough in one million vorns," Soundwave teased, smirking. He still hadn't acquired a face mask yet, though he wanted one, unbeknownst to his friends.

"Then I'll hafta get the high grade out," Jazz smirked back, dancing over to the area where the energon was stored. His promise never to drink again hadn't lasted very long.

"We agreed that the housewarming party was tomorrow."

"We _agreed_ tha' Prowl, Wheeljack, Ratch, an' Skyfire'd come by t'morrow. Ya never said I couldn't get wasted t'night."

"I didn't have to," Soundwave pointed at his head. "Telepath."

"Shut up an' let me have a little fun, will ya?"

"Negative," the indigo mech – for they'd recently been updated into adult mech forms – reached over to block his roommate from getting the energon. "If I allow fun tonight, I'll be holding your head over a bucket tomorrow."

"Oh, that happened one time!"

"I still have nightmares over it."

Jazz glared through the visor, pouting slightly. "Meanie."

"You big sparkling," Soundwave sighed, giving in. Jazz grinned. _Everybody_ gave in when he pouted like that. No one was immune – not even the infallible Soundwave.

A cube and a half later (each), Soundwave was a little buzzed. Jazz, ever the lightweight, was utterly, utterly wasted. Which made the indigo mech _very_ uncomfortable, because, if anything, the high grade in his systems was making his friend's requests worse than before.

"Pleeeeease?"

"No," Soundwave darkened his visor as his drunken roommate trailed a finger down his chest. "Desist."

"Not until ya," Jazz stopped to hiccup, then went on, "dance wit' me. Ya said!"

"Your hard drive must be malfunctioning."

"C'mon, play some musssic!" Jazz continued to move his fingers towards the buttons on his friend. Swiftly, the indigo mech jumped away. "Well, _you're_ no fun!" The future Autobot slurred. "Whassa matter wit' music?"

"Music: Fine by me. Your current state of mind: not fine."

"Aw, I'm okay!"

"If you want music, you have a stereo," Soundwave muttered. Had it been biologically possible for Cybertronians, he would have rolled his optics.

"Oh," Jazz paused to think. "Tha's… right…" He turned on his radio. Unlike the upbeat sounds before, this one was slower, with a more subtle underlying rhythm. "Nnow," he hiccupped, "will ya dance wit' me?"

Jazz started to move toward Soundwave to make the other dance, but tripped and fell onto the other instead, causing them both to land on the floor in a heap, the black-and-white atop the indigo.

The music floated through the apartment as they froze for a minute. Than all at once, Jazz moved down to close the gap. Their lips brushed, and Soundwave pushed the other away, gently holding him up so he didn't fall.

"Wha – whassa matter?" Jazz asked. "W-we're buds, right?"

"It wouldn't be right," Soundwave answered. "You're overenergised. I'd be taking advantage."

"But I want this!" Hiccupp. "I r-really do!"

"You aren't in the right mental state to make such decisions," the indigo answered sadly.

Jazz sighed, lifted himself up to the best of his ability, then promptly fell over again. Soundwave jumped up in alarm, but relaxed when he saw Jazz was just passed out. The taller mech wasn't sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing. Gently, he leaned over and turned the radio off, then lifted up his friend and carried him to the proper berth, mentally sending out apologetic waves that he knew the unconscious young mech wouldn't receive.

oOo

The next morning wasn't cause for celebration, though.

"Wha…?" Jazz muttered groggily as he woke up. "What the slag? Oooh, mah head!"

"Hung over?" Soundwave questioned as he entered the room holding something. Jazz was having trouble getting his optics fully online, so he couldn't make out what.

"Yeah, I…" he began, then abruptly stopped to clutch his chassis. "I think I'm gonna go sick… Sounds…" he stumbled over the side of the berth and began purging his internal systems into a bucket – which must have been what Soundwave had been holding. His CPU registered the feelings of one strong hand holding his head steady and the other gently rubbing his back.

Thankfully, Soundwave wasn't the type to say "I told you so."

"I take it tonight's little get-together is off?" a familiar voice called from the doorway – Ratchet, who had moved into the same apartment complex (as had Prowl, who was never too far from Jazz, after all) and was now an apprentice at a local medical facility. "I figured as much. Brought him this," the red-and-white mech held out a cube of questionable-looking green energon. "When he gets his head out of the bucket, help me force it down his throat."

Soundwave nodded.

"I also brought news for you, Soundwave. Figured you'd be interested – the Autobots raided the Decepticon city of Kaon."

The indigo did a double take – his _home_? "Continue," he commanded calmly.

"Dimethicone lab, the one that was overseeing Megatron's revolutionary Reflector project, was completely destroyed. I'm sorry, but… I figured you'd want to know…" Ratchet shifted uncomfortably.

Soundwave stood up as soon as Jazz stopped heaving. "Then I need to go." Without any further explanation, he walked away. Ratchet and Jazz exchanged looks.

"His maker," Jazz concluded. "I know they didn't get along, but…"

"But nothing," Ratchet cut him off, waving the toxic-looking energon cube. "Now take this before you start getting sick again."

oOo

Soundwave was gone for quite some time, and everyone felt the effects. Jazz insisted he was fine, but Prowl worried – he'd never seen his friend so depressed. The indigo mech finally returned, though, with a few changes – he was much more reserved, and his face was now covered completely.

Jazz questioned the "stupid thing" ("stupid thing" being his roommate's new facemask) repeatedly, but Soundwave only shrugged it off. However, he did have news for his friends:

"The remaining Decepticons of Kaon have attacked a nearby neutral city in retaliation," Soundwave told them coldly. Barely detectable behind the facemask, Prowl heard a chilling sense of glee – but then, he could have been imagining it. _Must_ have been imagining it. Soundwave hated the Decepticons, after all… didn't he?

"I heard about that," Skyfire commented quietly. "Kalis, right?"

"Yup!" Wheeljack piped up. "It was a tragedy. No survivors have been documented."

"No!" Prowl gasped. The others all turned to him and he shuddered, then regained his composure, explaining in one word the reason for the outburst: "Bluestreak…"

-_TBC_-

**I don't know if 'Dimethicone' sounds Cybertronian or not, but it does to me. I found the word on the back of my deodorant. Interesting, no? I always figured Reflector was a prototype of what would later become gestalts. Also, I have no idea if Bluestreak was from Kalis, but from what I know of the city, the Decepticons absolutely destroyed it and it still lays in ruins, dead bodies littering the ground. Lovely, isn't it?**

**Sorry for the short chapter. I did try to pack a lot in. And it seemed an appropriate ending. Originally, there was to be one more scene, where Soundwave (in private) explains the mask to Jazz. But I decided to save it for next chapter. A young Starscream also makes an appearance next chapter, and then the following should mark the appearance of Glyph, a.k.a. baby Bumblebee.**


	4. Arguments

**Okay, I've procrastinated long enough on this. "Wonderwall" is finished, and the third fic in this universe, "You May Be Right", is up. I'm a little irked that this story only has 9 reviews. By this point, "Wonderwall" had like 20. "YMBR" is one chapter and has 8. Oh, well.**

**Jazz uses the term 'youngling' the way adults use 'kid'. It can mean sparkling or minibot. And Prowl is the only one who suspects Skyfire's Lolita complex. I'm not going into that too much.**

"**Transformers" © HasTak.**

oOo

"No," Ratchet glared when Jazz told him just whom they'd be rescuing. "I'm not using up valuable supplies for a Decepticon."

"How 'bout fo' the Autobot who loves 'im?"

"You can tell Skyfire to shove it up his tailpipe. Starscream's shot at me far too many times for me to care whether he lives or dies."

"I ain't talkin' 'bout Skyfire!" Jazz groaned, exasperated. "C'mon, Ratch-man. Yo' an Autobot. Ya can't just let him die. Y'know that. Jus' do me a solid, man. Jus' this once!"

Ratchet sighed, or at least did the Cybertronian equivalent, heavily blowing air through his systems. "I must be getting soft… Is it Bumblebee?"

"Man, shut up!"

"Jazz," now the medic sounded amused, "you've been bending over backwards for him since you found out who he was. You know this is a severe breach of protocol. Saving Starscream won't save Soundwave."

Jazz paused before replying, "Yeah, I know… I jus'… I need ta see Bee happy. He's all I got left of Sounds."

"…I know, Jazz."

oOo

Iacon had been a neutral city at one time, though it had always favoured the Autobot side of the war. It was during that neutral time that Soundwave had gotten his face mask, and, not too long after, was sitting with his friends in a bar. (As mechs were so apt to do.) Ratchet was making sure Jazz stayed sober, and Jazz was sulking over it. Prowl was talking about the war. Eventually, it would reach this side of the planet…

"…and eventually we'll have to pick a side. Neutrals would naturally be the first casualties. All I'm saying is that the Autobot side looks much more promising."

"The Decepticons have flying power, though," Wheeljack pointed out. "Sorry, Prowl, but that's a pretty big advantage."

"Or it would be if they didn't live up to their names," Prowl snapped, door-wings twitching in annoyance. He was still bitter over the supposed loss of Bluestreak.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Wheejack's head-things (Jazz was unsure what to call them) flashed.

"Decepticons. Deceptive. It's right in the name. They stab each other in the back every chance they get, and that lack of camaraderie certainly won't win them any battles."

"Touchy, aren't we Prowl?" Ratchet added.

"Hardly," Prowl scoffed. "I'm just saying that from what I've read, the Autobots are far more honourable."

At that statement, Soundwave stood up. Another mech may have caused some sort of a scene, but he slipped away, unnoticed by everyone at the table except Jazz.

"Well, slag," Jazz muttered. "Don't mind me; jus' continue yo' stimulatin' political conversation. I'll be right back." Dismissing himself, he ran out the back door to follow Soundwave.

It was only after Jazz had left the room that Wheeljack noticed Soundwave was gone, too.

"Sounds?" Outside, in an alleyway, Jazz was running after his bulky flatmate. "Aw, c'mon, don't be mad!"

"I'm not."

"Yo' shaking."

Realising he was, Soundwave leaned against the wall of a building until it subsided.

"'Sbetter. Now, wanna tell me what's the matter?" Jazz smiled sweetly.

"Prowl."

That was a mild surprise, but Jazz didn't let it register on his face. "Yo' bein' insensitive. Prowl's still upset over losin' li'l Blue."

"The insensitive: Prowl. Not me."

"Sounds, who cares how much he hates the 'cons? Tha's his prerogative! An' ya said yo'self that Megatron was some sort o' monster."

"I was young and foolish."

"It wasn't that long ago!"

"Megatron may be a monster, but at least he allowed the citizens of Kaon to _live_," Soundwave's optics blazed beneath the visor for a few seconds before he composed himself. "Because of the 'honourable' Autobots, my home is gone. All my maker's work... all my work… it's all gone…"

Jazz couldn't keep from gasping, then wrapping his arms around Soundwave, who didn't react in the slightest. "If ya want it, Sounds… yo' home is here wit' me, in Iacon. Iacon's a neutral city still – no Decepticons, no Autobots…" Sensing Soundwave would probably block him out if he kept going, he let his friend go and changed the subject, "Why'd ya get a battle mask? You're no soldier."

"I never liked showing my emotions."

"That can't be healthy," Jazz shook his head. Soundwave looked away. "It doesn't suit ya, man. I can't see yo' face. Take it off? Fo' me?"

"Negative."

"Aw, c'mon, just fo' a breem? Why keep it on, anyway?"

"I already said…"

"Not really, no," Jazz answered. "That's no fair. You know everything 'bout me… if only cos yo' telepathy skills have improved so much…"

Soundwave hated that Jazz had the ability to talk him into anything. He pressed a button that parted the mask in the middle, and the black-and-white's breath caught in his throat. He'd almost forgotten how beautiful Soundwave's face was. A beauty that was tainted with sorrow. Not just about what Prowl had said, though – it looked as if the frown had been there for a long time. Too long.

"Sounds," Jazz staggered forward to run a hand over the frown. Soundwave jerked away, looking at his feet. "Soundwave… I'm so sorry…"

The indigo mech sank to the ground, not knowing if Jazz was apologising for making him remove the mask or for something else entirely. He didn't really care. Had he been able to, he would have cried. Not even able to do that, he merely brooded as the other continued to softly apologise into his audios, kneeling next to him and repeating how sorry he was and how everything would be alright…

…and when the empty promises and apologies turned to kisses, Soundwave didn't react. He couldn't find it in himself to muster up the energy to care.

oOo

Joors passed, and nothing was ever mentioned of that night. It was as if it had never happened. Orns passed, and still Jazz was the same he'd always been. The only difference was that he'd stopped asking about the mask. And, two vorns later, the Science Academy called Skyfire – the first of their trio of scientist friends to get a charge.

And now Skyfire wanted them to meet his charge. He was extremely young, but extremely gifted, the white flier said. He wasn't a native of Iacon. He was a flier. Skyfire had said he was called "Starscream."

But hiding behind Skyfire's leg like that, as they all gaped at him, he looked more like he should be named "Scaredtodeath." It was an image that had never left Jazz's head, nor Wheeljack's.

"Go on," Skyfire urged the young one – he looked vorns under the age of normal academy students. "They won't bite."

Visibly relaxing when Skyfire smiled down at him, the young flier tentatively walked forward, grasping one of his mentor's fingers for support. "I know they won't bite… I'm not stupid, Skyfire…"

The comment wasn't intended for him to hear, but Jazz chortled when he heard anyway. The flier had to be even younger than he looked, with such a soft, high voice.

Skyfire chuckled. "Of course you aren't. You're probably smarter than I am! Introduce yourself."

"I'm Starscream," the student looked around, as if waiting for someone to say something. Shifting uncomfortably when no one did, he added, "I'm a seeker."

"I can see that," Ratchet replied before he could stop himself. The little one looked a little offended, causing Jazz to chortle again.

"What, pray tell, is so amusing?" Prowl asked his best friend.

"Nothin', nothin'. He's fraggin' adorable, Skyfire!"

Skyfire smiled slightly. Starscream backed up to be closer to his mentor. It was obvious new faces made him uneasy.

"Starscream," the tall, white flier addressed his charge. "These are my friends. Ratchet is training to be a medic. Wheeljack is an engineer. And that's Prowl, Jazz, and Soundwave."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," the little one recited, though he didn't appear pleased. He looked up at Skyfire uneasily, and the mech sighed.

"I'm sorry, guys," Skyfire smiled, "I promised him I'd take him flying."

"Hey, no problem," Jazz smiled, waving his hand at the pair of fliers. "Run along, now. It was nice ta meet ya, Starscream!"

As soon as they'd left, Ratchet chuckled, "I can't wait to get my own charge." He had no way of knowing at the time that he'd never have the chance.

"Hn," Prowl nodded his acknowledgement. "As long as you don't act like Skyfire does with Starscream."

"Yeah," Prowl's implications went right over Wheeljack's head. The engineer happily added, "Starscream's got our friend wrapped around his little finger, am I right?"

"That's not what I meant," Prowl muttered.

"The youngling's cute; no doubt 'bout that," Jazz smirked, turning to his roommate. "Don'tcha just love younglings, Sounds? I've always liked 'em, m'self."

Soundwave chose not to reply. He'd already known that, so the remark wasn't surprising enough to warrant a reply. Nor did it surprise him when Wheeljack replied:

"You know, you'd make a great caretaker, Jazz. You should look into buying a sparkling kit. You don't necessarily need a bondmate to bring it to life, either. Ratchet could help you clone your spark or whatever single-makers do, I bet."

What did surprise Soundwave was Jazz's reply:

"Yeah, I'd like that a lot. I really want one. The sooner the better!"

"Jazz," Soundwave stood up and gestured for his roommate to do the same. "Follow me. We need to talk."

Prowl, Wheeljack, and Ratchet watched as a confused Jazz followed Soundwave out of Wheeljack's workshop. The engineer didn't bother to tell them that the workshop walls weren't that thick, and thus they heard every word of the discussion:

"You are not buying a sparkling kit," Soundwave told Jazz. He wouldn't allow it.

"Never said I was, Sounds. We could make one! Ya said ya knew how! Wouldn't that be great?"

"No," the taller berated. "How could you want one, Jazz? There are too many sparklings. Too many viruses, battles, psychos, too many deaths. We can't make a sparkling."

"But we could make such a cool, beautiful one," Jazz sounded upset, and Soundwave had to force himself to stay angry. "It'd be so happy, an' we'd love it so much…"

"I don't want a sparkling in our apartment. You're still just one yourself."

"But…"

"Cybertron is a mess. I won't bring a sparkling into it."

Jazz pouted, but Soundwave would have none of it. The black-and-white had never felt so dejected in his life.

oOo

It was a couple orns later when Jazz came home from his factory job, only to be surprised by the fact Soundwave was home before him. Working on something.

"You're home early," Soundwave had to make an effort not to sound surprised. Somehow, Jazz knew his roommate hadn't been expecting him.

"What's that?" the black-and-white mech pointed to the yellow parts on the floor.

"You've been depressed," Even with the facemask and visor, Soundwave somehow managed to look sheepish.

Jazz knelt down, trying to figure out how so many parts would connect. Seeing what Soundwave had already finished – a small hand and a spark chamber – he gasped and broke into a wide smile.

"S-Sounds… Is that… a sparkling kit?"

"No," Soundwave answered honestly. "It's… custom…"

"Primus!" Jazz's grin grew, if it were even possible, and he threw himself into his roommate's arms, shocking the other and knocking him over. "Ya didn't have to."

"I wasn't going to. You were beginning to depress me. It was supposed to be a surprise."

"Thank you," Jazz felt as if his spark chamber would explode from happiness. "We'll make great parents, Sounds. I can feel it."

-_TBC_-

**Not a lot left. (This is a much shorter story than "Wonderwall", after all.) Next chapter, you all get to meet Glyph, who will eventually become Bumblebee! Yay, aren't you all excited?**


	5. Parents

**Yes, that's right, I'm FINALLY updating this one. I make no guarantees on how good this chapter's gonna be, though. You know, while you're waiting between updates, you should get a look at the fourth (and LAST) installment of this little fic saga thing, "Look What I Did To My Id". Information can eventually be found on my LJ, ksiezniczka11.**

**What? No, I wasn't shamelessly promoting myself within my author's notes. Whatever makes you think that?**

**Title and series not mine.**

oOo

Though he wasn't quite sure what they'd do about Starscream when Ratchet was finished with repairs, it did hurt Jazz to see his creation in such pain over the injuries of the seeker.

Prowl wasn't too pleased with the situation either. "You do realise what a severe breach of protocol this is?"

The Porsche scowled. "I couldn't just let 'im die. That wouldn't be the Autobot thing to do, now would it?"

"This is Starscream you're talking about. You're getting soft, Jazz"

"Ah, what d'you know? You don' have kids..."

"Neither do you. He's nearly full-age - far past the point where younglings are separated from their makers."

"Ya don' get it, Prowler!" the saboteur rested his helm in his hands, letting out a sigh. Prowl felt a smidgen of remorse. He hadn't meant to upset his friend; only to make him see reason.

"Jazz, I-"

"Primus, I'm sorry. I jus'... I dunno. D'you remember when he was a- well, back when he was Glyph?"

oOo

"What the slag is that?!" Wheeljack was taken aback when he and Ratchet saw Jazz, Prowl, and Soundwave in the streets of Cybertron one day holding something small and bright yellow.

"Watch yo' language," Jazz berated the young engineer. "He's a sparkling."

"When did _you_ get a sparkling? And how did it get a _spark_!?" Wheeljack turned to glare at Ratchet for not telling him.

"Don't you glare at me," the young medic glared back. "I had nothing to do with it! Just as you had nothing to do with these two asking for private radios... right?"

"Uh, yeah... right..."

"If you two are finished," Prowl spoke up, then gestured to the parents and their sparkling, "I think they want to introduce it."

"Yeah, I do!" Jazz grinned and held up the sparkling so that his friends could get a better look. "I present ta y'all, my pride an' joy, li'l Baby Glyph!"

"What, you didn't name him 'Beatbox' or something?" Wheeljack grinned - to the best of his ability - under the mask

"Designation: _Glyph_." Soundwave shook his head. "Nicknames will confuse it."

"What? What's wrong wit' callin' 'im a baby? That's what he is, isn't it?"

Prowl tried his best to ignore these petty arguments the two were having so often, especially since he'd heard more than once that this was common with first-time parents. But it was happening with annoying frequency - and he could only imagine what happened in the privacy of their apartment when he _wasn't _around. Soundwave still made Prowl uneasy for some reason, though he couldn't figure out why.

Maybe it was how often Soundwave would tell Jazz, "Don't hold it so much; you'll spoil it."

To which Jazz would inevitably reply, "Ain't nothin' wrong with holdin' an' lovin' a baby," with a tone that implied he was glaring beneath the visor.

Or when the black-and-white parent would bounce the baby on his knee, and sing nonsense to it, Soundwave would worry that it'd never learn to speak "proper Cybertronian", obviously embarrassed at this public display of affection towards the thing. More often than not, Jazz would ignore his roommate and sing even louder, causing giggles to erupt from Glyph and friction to rise between the two.

It made Prowl uncomfortable.

But Jazz was happy. He _loved _having a sparkling to spoil; he _adored_ Glyph. And he knew Soundwave loved the youngling as well; the indigo mech just had a different way of expressing it. Jazz always figured it was a cultural difference - Kaon was all the way on the other side of the planet, and Soundwave sure as slag didn't have an Iacon-style upbringing.

That evening, Soundwave spoon-fed warm low-grade energon to the yellow sparkling as Jazz tidied up a bit, chuckling when he looked over to see his indigo roommate covered with the stuff.

"Hey, Sounds, looks like there's mo' energon on you than inside Baby Glyph!"

Soundwave glared, unamused, and Jazz, barely stifling his laughter, turned back to the task at hand. And aside from the baby's nonsense babbling, it was silent for a few breems.

That's when the black-and-white heard it.

It was quiet at first, but slowly crescendoed. A low, ethereal melody, simple yet complex, the likes of which he'd never heard. For some time, Jazz froze in his spot, entranced by the lullaby, before shaking it off and turning to see the sparkling peacefully recharging in Soundwave's arms.

"I don' believe it," he spoke up, causing his roommate's head to whip around in shock.

"Silence," Soundwave commanded, quietly, gesturing to the sparkling with his chin as he handed it off to Jazz. They didn't have the credits for a special recharge berth, so more often than not, Glyph spent the night in Jazz's arms.

"Y'know," the shorter mech smirked, "if ya sing to 'im like that, he'll never learn proper Cybertronian."

The taller of the pair shook his head, though Jazz couldn't tell if he was smiling or frowning beneath that stupid mask.

"Ya have a beautiful voice, Sounds," he spoke up again, this time a lot more serious. "Why haven't ya sung ta me befo'?"

"You never asked."

Jazz gaped at this answer for a few nanokliks before announcing, "I'm goin' ta recharge now. I'll radio you if anything happens that I can't handle."

oOo

He had always looked forward to having a sparkling of his very own, but he'd never assumed it'd be easy. As soon as Glyph could walk, he began getting into all sorts of trouble, running all over the apartment like a mad cybercat. Soundwave wondered more than once if they weren't disciplining him enough, but Jazz assured him:

"He jus' needs time an' love. I was a terror when I was little, too."

It wasn't very convincing. Glyph got into everything, no matter how well the pair sparkling-proofed the apartment. Once, Ratchet had come over holding the yellow sparkling out to him - how had he even gotten out? He hoped it was just a stage - it made him uneasy how Jazz just forgave the thing when it smiled that innocent smile, large blue optics glittering with innocence.

"At least he's a happy an' outgoin' sparkling," Jazz would say. "Some o' them yell all the time, or cling ta their makers whenever they're in public."

"He behaves better for you than he does for me," Soundwave protested, frustrated.

"You're glitchin'. An' if that were true, then you should consider yo'self lucky."

"Elaborate."

"He's mo' comfortable wit' you, prolly cos ya insist on feedin' 'im all the time. I think it's sweet."

Outwardly, the indigo mech scoffed. Glyph was going to turn out a spoiled brat, he just knew it.

Inwardly, though he tried to block the feelings, he couldn't help but feel just a little flattered by his roommate's opinion.

-_TBC_-

**Jazz and Soundwave now have private radios. Yes. I really wished I could have delved deeper into the whole issue of relationship problems after a new baby, but one, these two still aren't in an official romance, and two, I've never been a parent. I used to work at a day care, though, so I have experience with hellion toddlers. Oy vey.**

**I'm fairly sure these chapters are getting shorter and shorter, but as I'm now writing on a Mac (My PC is old and decrepit...) I'm not sure how long or short this chapter was in comparison to the others. Whatever. I hope you enjoyed. Especially since next chapter will probably be the last.**

**What'd ya think?**


End file.
